


On a cold day

by Claire_cz



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 01:23:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17757131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Claire_cz/pseuds/Claire_cz
Summary: It should have been just an ordinary day for House but cold weather and icy pavements caught him unprepared. And Wilson doesn't understand.





	On a cold day

On a cold day

House woke up before his alarm clock began beeping. The weather was changing, it was colder, the temperature dropped. His leg felt it and didn’t like it at all. He massaged his right thigh before getting up. When House opened the curtains in his bedroom, he saw that the last leaves had fallen from the trees. Everything was grey. He shivered.

When he moved to the kitchen he saw a few sunrays timidly shining through the clouds. Impulsively, he decided to go to work on his bike, it was probably going to be his last ride for a very long time. He was a jerk sometimes but even he wasn’t that reckless to ride a bike in winter when it’s snowing and freezing. And the forecasts were predicting first snowfalls in the next week.

It felt good, at the beginning. The ride to the hospital wasn’t too long, he rode in his usual biking time around nine thirty, so the morning rush was over and he could enjoy the ride. It was chilly but not that cold. Still, he had to admit to himself, his leg felt sorer than he would have liked. Tomorrow he has to take the car, House mused. He slowly went to the reception desk.

“House, I gave up on hoping you’ll come here at eight long time ago, but 9.55 is too much even for your standards. You have a case so hurry up,” Cuddy greeted him.

“Oh, good morning to you too, Dr. Cuddy. You are always the fount of wisdom, because for example me? I don’t know that I have a case. I don’t even know if I want to have a case,’’ House exclaimed in his usual way and didn’t forget to take a close look at her: curly hair, low-cut blouse as usual, close fitting skirt, high heels. 

“You have a case,” Cuddy announced and handed him the chart. “45-year old female, presented with double vision, arrhythmia, right hand paralysis,” she recited.

House grabbed the chart. “Don’t have time to argue with you about how boring this case is, have to hurry up, remember,” he referred to her earlier comment.

……………………………………………  
“No, it doesn’t fit.”

“It has to be something.” 

“Nothing explains this.” 

These were the most frequent remarks in the diagnostics room till late in the evening. 

The patient was deteriorating and they still didn’t have the correct diagnosis. Foreman and Chase went home. They both had a night shift the previous day, so Cameroon volunteered to monitor the patient overnight. 

Even House decided to stay, he wanted to hear of any changes first hand, plus he had his theory and expected the tests to prove him right tomorrow morning. For this moment, he eased himself in his Eames chair and fell asleep. 

House woke up early in the morning, it was very cold in the office. Cameron didn’t have any news about the patient, he felt tired but decided to forego further sleep because of the cold and got up. House poured himself a cup of coffee and pulled up the blinds. Because it was an early morning in November, it was still dim outside, but House could clearly see small snowflakes slowly falling to the ground. 

Initially he wanted to go home, change his clothes, shower, maybe get some sleep but immediately changed his plans. He’ll wait till afternoon, when the weather usually gets better, so he can ride home safely. ‘No need to risk it right now,’ House reasoned quietly. It’s been always difficult for him to maintain balance on the motorbike. Rain, snow or cold weather made this even more difficult. 

“The lab tests are negative,” Chase reported when he came in. 

House looked surprised, the case clearly wasn’t progressing as he expected. After a moment of silence, he decided: “High time to use the big guns. Do the brain biopsy.” 

“We can’t, House. She’s not stable, it’s too risky,” Foreman argued. 

“Yeah, it’s safer to let her die,” House shot back. But he knew from the beginning that he needed Cuddy’s approval. 

“Hey, need to stick a needle into my patient’s brain. It’s not functioning properly anyway, she’s a philosophy teacher, so if it goes south she won’t sue us,” House stormed into Cuddy’s office. 

She was focused on a pile of documents in front of her. Startled by this sudden arrival, she looked up to him. “House! You are here early.” 

She eyed him suspiciously, he was even more dishevelled than usual. She sniffed and re-evaluated his early arrival to an overnight stay. “Before you tell me more about this crazy idea, go home and most importantly: take a shower, House.” 

“Death caused by the delay in diagnosis caused by the Dean’s of medicine obsessive need to treat her doctors like her husbands. I tell this to the patient, just so she knows what to expect.”

Cuddy got up from her chair. She was impeccable as always: white top, red jacket and tight red skirt, black high heels. His dishevelled appearance stood out even more. „Why does the patient need the brain biopsy?” she gave in. 

While they were waiting for the biopsy results, House was grimly watching as more and more snowflakes were falling to the ground. The temperature fell just below zero. ‘Perfect, just perfect, damn weather,’ House cursed silently. His leg certainly didn’t feel up for even more precarious balancing. Now, the roads and pavements ought to be not only wet but icy.

Chase ran into the office. “You were right, the results are back.” 

“Of course, I was right. And if you weren’t insisting on waiting for the results we could have begun the treatment exactly two hours and thirty five minutes earlier.” 

“But we had to be sure. You can’t just blindly treat a patient in such a severe condition,’’ Chase tried to defend the team. House was angry. He had to wait for the biopsy results and missed the short moment after the snowing stopped and before it started to freeze. And he really didn’t know how he gets home. 

His leg hurt more than usual, the changing weather, the cold and the night spent in his office all contributed to the elevated level of pain. For now House decided to wait and headed for the Eames chair again. 

Around five Wilson went by his office. “You are still here? Heard from Cuddy that you came in early or stayed in late to be precise. I thought you are long home.” 

“I’m badly needed here,” House said, his face blank. 

“I thought the patient is getting better. The diagnosis is right,” Wilson responded surprised.

“Yeah, but all the meds she needs, all the syringes… I have to make sure that Chase counts them correctly. And they have different colours, what if Foremen is colour-blind? I need to see to it,” he said in serious tone.

“Oh, so Chase can’t count suddenly, Foreman is colour-blind, what about Cameron?” Wilson asked in exasperation. 

He was staring at House intently and at the window behind him. It began to snow again, just a few snowflakes, but finally Wilson understood. House didn’t want to drive. 

“I bet that prehistoric vehicle of yours doesn’t have windshield wipers. If you don’t want to risk a fine, I can give you a lift,” he suggested lightly. It was the only way how to get House to at least sometimes accept his help. 

“I wouldn’t say it’s prehistoric. The Honda is pretty modern,” House said innocently. Of course, Wilson thought House used his old Volvo for the ride to the hospital. 

“You rode a bike? In this weather? Are you insane, House?” Wilson questioned him. 

“As you pointed out I’m here since yesterday. No snow yesterday so I’d say I’m sane,” House explained. 

“Ok, whatever, it’s late and I just want to go home and I’m taking you with me,” Wilson decided.

“No,” House said loudly. “Chase can’t count, Foreman is colour-blind and … and Cameroon is afraid of needles. I need to train them overnight,” House said, his face blank, again.

“You won’t go with me?” Wilson asked. 

“I’m really really badly needed here, I thought we established that.”

“Ok, suit yourself, be a jerk, but I won’t come back tonight just to give you a lift when you are done sulking. Take a cab.” Wilson said and went away. 

House would have liked to swallow his pride and let Wilson take him home but he couldn’t. Until he comes up with something or until the ice melts he’s stuck here. He usually follows the forecasts, even though his leg usually lets him know about changing weather in advance, but this snow and ice came totally unexpected, so he didn’t have an ice grip attachment on his cane. 

It was 5 pm, the majority of the doctors had just finished their shifts and were leaving, so no, he’s certainly not going with Wilson to the car. If he falls, it’s a too big of an audience. 

“Doctor Wilson,” Cuddy caught him in the main lobby. “I know your shift is over, but I’d like to ask you a favour. The clinic is still crowded. Could you help in the clinic this evening?” she explained the situation. 

Wilson sighed. “Of course, I’ll stay.” 

“I’d love to stay, too, but I have a dinner with some potential sponsors. And I can’t cancel it. I’ll just go check up on House’s patient, see how she’s doing after the brain biopsy I allowed.”

“You can check up on House, too, when you are at it,” Wilson said. 

“I thought he went home hours ago...” Cuddy wondered. 

“No, apparently and I quote he’s badly needed here. And one more thing, he rode in here on the death machine,” Wilson got upset. 

She found House sitting half-asleep in the Eames chair in his office, his bad leg elevated on a large pillow. 

“If I knew you were here, I would have given you an extra shift in the clinic… But it’s covered now and your patient is stable, so go home, House.” 

“But I really loooove it here,” House sing-song with false excitement. 

“House, go take a shower, now,” she was losing her temper. 

“Oh, so impatient, wanna join me in there?” House asked sarcastically. 

“Go home, take a shower at home, alone and tomorrow find a new case or go to the clinic,” Cuddy said matter-of-factly. Today she didn’t have time for his usual games. And with that she went away. On her high heels without a single thought about the icy pavements. 

‘She doesn’t have any idea,’ House thought bitterly as he was watching her. 

At first Wilson wasn’t thinking about the reason why exactly the clinic was so crowded this day. But when we had treated third sprained wrist in a row, he suddenly understood.  
“Icy pavements, of course,” Wilson mumbled. 

“Yeah, doc. Really wasn’t expecting that. And next thing I’m lying on the pavement,” one of the patients agreed.  
‘I’m an idiot.’

Wilson came in House’s office again. 

“I thought you don’t come back after I’m done sulking.” 

“Cuddy hold me up in the clinic,” Wilson explained softly. “We are going home, House,” he announced. 

“But Chase has still problems with multiplication,” House wanted to escape but Wilson was very determined now. 

“Cuddy put me into the clinic, you wouldn’t believe it, it was full of people who fell on the ice, sprained wrists, sprained ankles, some broken wrists even…” Wilson said seemingly without any reason. But House knew what the message meant, Wilson understood. 

They went slowly to the main entrance. There Wilson said quietly: “Lean on me.”

House didn’t say anything. He hated those situations but deep down he was very grateful to Wilson. 

“If it continues to snow you’ll have to have someone transport or tow the death machine home,” Wilson pointed out. 

“Motorbikes aren’t transported or towed, they are created specifically to be used for rides,” House protested. 

“I’m not driving that home and neither are you,” Wilson clarified. 

“What about putting a tarp over it and leaving it here,” House suggested, slightly chuckling. 

“Leaving it here, on the handicapped spot? Cuddy would be boiling with anger and you’d end up with an infinite number of clinic hours,” Wilson joined House’s light tone and together they made it to his car. 

The drive passed almost in silence. Wilson accompanied House to his apartment. He urgently needed a glass of water... 

Wilson drank up the water and when he was almost out of the door House said in a low voice: “Thanks for the lift, Wilson.”

“Thanks for the water, House,” Wilson replied smiling to himself.


End file.
